Fun on the Job
by akaisherry47
Summary: Just a waiter trying to make the most out of an ordinary day at Poirot. As if days at Poirot could ever be ordinary with him around.
1. Welcome to Poirot

Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan.

Notes: For the select few who are already familiar with my DC-related works thus far, I guess its pretty much noticeable that I'm keen on pieces that are... A little bit different than the norm. This is probably gonna go down as one of them – my first crack at Bourbon. Its been a while since I thought of writing something about him, but when I finally got down to it, I had a hard time pegging his personality since there's not much official content about him that I could work with, and even those didn't offer enough details to set him apart from the other detectives in the franchise, at least in my opinion. The same can be said for Azusa, though that's because she strikes me more as the generic type.

Do note that in Japan, café and bar employees often refer to their boss as "Master" or "Mama", for male and female respectively. I'll be using that here.

* * *

Tooru Amuro wipes the residual water and soap off his hands with a towel as he comes out of the kitchen, just in time to see a group of customers off with the customary bow and sendoff. Café Poirot had just been relieved of customers, for the time being at least. Understandable, as it was way past rush hour already. Business usually picks up later in the afternoon, making this a golden opportunity for every staff in the café including the owner to catch their breaths or to follow up on some chores.

There is no time for rest for Amuro though. Moments like these are better spent following up on his other job. As a private detective? No. His _other_ job.

Roaming the café instinctively with his keen eyes, Amuro spotted the owner in his permanent station behind the register, routinely checking today's sales thus far. Over at the couch seat that had just been vacated, Azusa Enomoto is taking a break after wiping and resetting it. She looked awfully drained, taking orders, cooking and serving them all by herself since Maki, another part-timer and the one usually assigned in the kitchen, texted this morning that she'll be running late, but promised to make it in time for the busier afternoon shift. Both the owner and Azusa have cordial relations with Detective Mouri upstairs, one a regular drinking and mahjong buddy, the other a damsel who sought for aid a couple of times in the past. It doesn't take a genius of Amuro's caliber to figure out who between them would spill the more in-demand beans.

"Holding up?" Amuro asks Azusa, pulling the chair directly across her to sit with the backrest in front of him.

"Managing," the brown-haired waitress replied, smiling meekly at her colleague while fanning her chin with the collar of her baby blue shirt.

Not long after, the owner inserts himself into the budding conversation, a tray with two glasses of water in tow. He couldn't have picked a better time to help establish the mood. "Thanks for the hard work, you two. I probably wouldn't be able to manage things today if one of you called in sick, especially you, Amuro-kun," the owner said, the latter part jokingly, while serving the refreshments.

"Sorry about that, Master. I guess my body's just not built for the cold," the blonde reacted, taking up an abashed guise, scratching his temple and all.

"Did you live in Okinawa before moving to Tokyo? I wouldn't be surprised if you got your tan there."

"Uhh, no. I've only been there once back in high school."

"Oh, I see... Anyway, I need to drop by the hospital for a bit to see my nephew, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. Can you guys hold the fort while I'm gone?"

Azusa nods emphatically, getting ahead of Amuro in answering this time. "No problem, Master!"

"Well, I'm counting on you two then." The owner pulls his apron over his head and stashes it behind the counter, taking his pouch bag in the same sequence before finally heading out, giving Amuro an encouraging pat on his way.

Thus, Amuro and Azusa were officially left alone in the shop.

Looking to build on his momentum, Amuro sinks his chin on his arms, quietly assessing Azusa while she sips some water. She needed it after spending her remaining energy answering. From her overwrought breathing alone, it was easy to tell that she's already bone-tired, and yet her eyes kept on stealing glances at the front door, still waiting for customers as if her heart is just as empty without anyone hunkering down the seats, trying to keep a strong appearance for reasons he couldn't quite fathom. He would have to ask Vermouth more about that later for future reference.

Then again, Azusa's blind diligence is probably among the traits that make her even more charming than she already is. She's a textbook eye candy: cute, sweet, hard-working, kindhearted and a bunch of things in between. And she makes a heck of a spaghetti to boot - she let him try it a few days ago when she invited him to her pad. It doesn't take a genius of Amuro's caliber either to work out why a lot of male customers keep ordering multiple cups of ¥230 coffee just to get her to serve them if not bring her gifts. As a man, Amuro wouldn't deny that she's one of those things that make his dull cover at Poirot a tad bearable, and had he pursued further a more normal lifestyle like the part he's currently portraying, he could easily see himself asking her out on a regular basis.

For Bourbon however, she only reminds him of that bimbo Rye beguiled in order to get into the Organization. You can find bimbos anywhere without looking for them specifically.

"Is something wrong, Amuro-san?" Azusa asked, noticing his perusal but undoubtedly clueless about his contradicting views of her.

"Nothing... Just a little bored, I guess," he answered while trying to act the part.

"Bored? Now that's a surprise," she said, chuckling in disbelief.

"Huh? How so?" Amuro lifts his face up in interest.

"Hmm..." Azusa takes a closer look at the blonde, cupping her chin with her thumb and index finger, obviously imitating Detective Mouri whom she had seen in action firsthand. "You just don't look like a guy who'd get bored so easily. To me, at least."

"Is that so?" He nods slowly, acknowledging her remark. "What type of guy do you take me for then?"

Azusa turns her eyes off him, avoiding eye contact as her cheeks turn rosy. "Y-you kinda put me on the spot there..."

"Oh, come on. Don't leave me hanging here. Whatever it is, I won't laugh or take it personally, promise."

"Errr... You've probably heard them from someone else... What I'm gonna say..."

Amuro grins teasingly, firming his gaze at his flustered co-worker. "I want to hear it straight from you."

"F-fine! But I'll hold you on that promise, okay?" Azusa consented, giving in to his attrition at last. She covers her face for a few seconds as she takes a deep breath, trying to loosen up until her cheeks didn't feel so hot anymore. "W-well... Let's see... For starters, you're very smart. You easily notice all these little things and become very interested in them, but I guess that's because you're a detective too. And you say strange things too, like when you made a pun about hiding the claws behind an innocent smile the other day. A-a-and you're very good looking and kind too..." She couldn't sustain her composure on that last part, uttering it as low as she could before her face retreated back to her palms.

"O-kay, I'll definitely take that." Sussing that she was becoming uneasy with the course their conversation was taking, Amuro jumps onto the nearest, most durable boat within range. "It feels just like yesterday though," he began after a sigh, "when Taii-kun dropped by at our café doorstep for the first time."

"It sure is. He was a really sweet and intelligent cat. Remember when he brought along that weird receipt?"

"Of course. I had to chase that receipt down but alas, it was gone for good the moment it flew away."

"Errr... That was my fault. I should have given it to you sooner," she admitted. "Anyway, the kids said it was like an SOS sign, and they had Taii-kun send it to us when the delivery truck stopped by the neighborhood so we could give it to Mouri-san. A-nd they also said you were pretty cool back there when you saved them." Azusa flashes him a flattering grin as she added the last bit.

"It was purely coincidence that I found them struggling against crooks on my way home," Amuro lied, just like he did when he said he didn't find the receipt and how he wound up on that street by chance. Just like how the kids, presumably just Conan Edogawa in particular, lied to her about the receipt being meant for his adoptive father. Detective Mouri would take hours at best to figure everything out, from the corpse stashed inside the delivery truck to the method used to create the note, granted that he reaches the peak of what he can really do.

"But I really wish I had been there to see you beat those bad guys up. They were raving about your awesome boxing moves!"

"There's nothing special about it, really... Just something I had to learn in PE class way back when."

"Well, if so say so..." Deciding not to pry too much about her co-worker's background, Azusa's face suddenly sinks into a frown, palpably reminded of the cat that had once been part of their life at the café now that the topic about the receipt he brought is exhausted. "To be honest, I really miss Taii-kun. I've only had him for a week before Masuko-san claimed him," she confided.

"I feel for you." Amuro extends a hand towards Azusa and, upon sensing no resistance from her, lays it over her hand. Despite the painstaking work she does everyday, Azusa's hand was surprisingly soft. For his gesture, she beams at him weakly. "By the way, have you heard about Masuko-san getting injured a week after he claimed his cat?" He brings up the case that happened not long after once he was sure she's okay.

"Yes, Conan-kun told me all about it this past Thursday," she answered in a gossipy way.

"He did, eh," Amuro said wryly, drawing his hand back. "How much did he tell you?"

"Hmm... As far as what I was told, it was supposed to be an argument between Masuko-san and a friend that got out of hand."

"That's what I heard too... Apparently, the guy who originally found Taii-kun and gave it to Masuko-san's wife as a gift took it as an insult when Masuko-san tried to return the cat to him. Things got pretty rough, but at least Masuko-san just wound up in the hospital and not the morgue. I find it rather ironic though... That Taii-kun, after Masuko-san claimed him from you, was again left with noone to take care him, albeit temporarily."

"About that, I actually volunteered to take care of Taii-kun while Masuko-san's recovering at the hospital, but Conan-kun said his neighbor already has that covered."

"Oh yeah? Then I guess we shouldn't worry too much." Again, how the boy keeps himself informed of all sorts of things at once astounded Amuro, but at the same time, it irritated him badly, reminding him of how his sworn enemy used to be.

"Yup. In any case, I'm so relieved that he's going to be okay," Azusa told him, sounding sympathetically optimistic as if she was talking about a blood relative, even though she really was more concerned about the pet that, for a short while, had been hers. "But how did you know about all that? Conan-kun told me that Masuko-san asked the police not to publicize the incident since all of it was just a misunderstanding." She blinked at him a few times when it occurred to her.

"Mouri-sensei gave me the specifics yesterday over sandwich and orange juice. At least the details he was informed of," he lied, the truth of the matter being that he heard it straight out of Inspector Megure when he called Kogorou the night after the incident, furiously reminding him to tell his charge not to meddle with police business. The inspector was careful not to divulge anything critical even to an old friend as per standard protocol, but the reprimand alone gave Amuro all the references he needed to put together the image of the boy making monkeys out of those older than him and spearheading the investigation until a solution is found. He expected no less from Vermouth's favorite kid.

Moments later, while Amuro was pressing Azusa for details about the third case involving the poor Calico cat, a couple of customers came in. Two men in business suits to be exact: a hunched, balding man in his fifties holding his worn brown coat, and a younger, willowy, cropped-haired fellow in a gray suit that looks too cheap to be authentic, The bald one's an engineer working on a development project a couple of blocks south of the café while the thin one, a cost engineer from the same company. Said development project was on the news recently following an on-site accident that wasted a week's worth of labor and left a construction crew with a broken leg in its wake. The local government and the media continues to milk it to get attention for various advocacies surrounding public safety and political-slash-corporate conspiracies and most of all, for themselves. "Great. These two again. They sure know how to foul up the mood around here," the blonde detective thought with annoyance. They've been a regular Poirot for the past two weeks, talking about gray suit's in-laws and figures playing around seven digits, ranting about their annoying bosses for the heat they're taking and how the injured worker should be held accountable for the incident instead, and openly flirting with Azusa as well. Mainly gray suit, his companion merely a wingman who hopes to get lucky once he had his fill.

"Irasshaimase!" Azusa cheerfully greets, seemingly revitalized upon the sight of familiar faces occupying the table at the left-hand corner of the window. But her façade finally crumbles once the two started murmuring to one another while pretending to read the menus left on the table, her lips sinking to a concerned frown. At least she's not so dense as to be oblivious to their prurient gazes everytime she takes their order or their age-old tactic of audaciously ignoring everyone who would try to wait their table, including Amuro a couple of times, until she finally comes over. Either that or they'd outright call her while she's tending to another table. One time, gray suit even brought her a frivolous gift that she had to refuse not out of sheer politeness as much as her fear of him taking things the wrong way had she accepted it. Funny, they still took things the wrong way anyhow. Amuro takes her sudden hesitation as his cue.

"I'll take this one," he kindly offered, confidently in a low voice.

"You sure?" Azusa asked back, looking all astonished. "But they'll probably just tell you 'they're good' until I finally come over. Maybe I should take their order instead."

"If you keep pampering lechers like these, they won't stop until they finally get what they want from you. Besides, I gotta make it up to you for my absences and sudden half-days, don't I?" he reasoned, standing up so she couldn't refuse him any further. "Just finish your drink and move along, alright?"

"Okay." She nodded at him with a genuinely relieved smile before ducking to the kitchen, taking the glasses of water with her.

After wiping the moisture that was left on their table, the man also known as Bourbon brings out his order pad and pen and paces hurriedly towards the unsavory customers. Time to put up yet another act to overlap what is already a grand performance. "Good morning and welcome to Café Poirot, sir. May I take your order?"

"The usual blend will do for now," says brown suit, languidly as if he just wanted to get it over with.

"Pineapple juice and BLT sandwich for me. And make it fast," adds gray suit, looking disappointedly at the waiter who obviously wasn't the one they're expecting to see.

"One order of Caffè Americano, pineapple juice and a BLT sandwich platter. Is that right?," Amuro repeated, pretending to jut the items down. He really didn't need to; it's just a waste of paper on people who are a lot filthier than trash. This country could use a little less filth. "If anything else strikes your fancy, please don't hesitate to call." Once they've confirmed it, he recouped the menus from them and bowed humbly, just as any professional waiter would, before he left. As he had expected, disparaging murmurs trailed after him, more specifically from the man in gray, telling him to take a hike so they could be alone with the pretty waitress. If only he had the slightest idea of how Bourbon could get back at him for such trifle, maybe he would think twice about crossing him like that. "That neck of his looks pretty flimsy," Amuro thought with a smirk. "But I wouldn't do that. It'd be a waste of effort for someone already standing on a foundation that would soon crumble on its own weight."

When he arrived to the kitchen to relay the order, the detective-slash-waiter finds Azusa waiting anxiously for him behind the dividing wall. She had been observing him from the moment she got to the kitchen, worried that the her "admirers" might cause some trouble with her sudden avoidance.

"How did it go?" she asked as soon as he got back, her conjoined hands held up to her chest in anticipation.

"Well, they sounded like they wanted to break my leg into three separate pieces like what happened to that construction worker, but at least I got their order without shedding blood," he joked, trying to get her to loosen up. She was acting a little too concerned than what was necessary, but that's understandable anyway.

"Stop messing around! You really had me worried, you know," Azusa chided, smacking his arm. "Anyway, what did they order?"

Amuro promptly repeated the items listed in his memory.

"You didn't write it down again," the waitress deduced, resting her fingers on her temple.

"Why write if I can remember it?" he explained, a self-satisfied grin in his face as he moves towards the fridge for the bacon.

"Because that's how we usually do it? But I guess we can get away with it this time," Giving her argument up, Azusa sneaks ahead of the taller Amuro to get the remaining two-thirds of the classic ingredient trio from the lower compartment. "Seriously though, thanks for covering for me, Amuro-san." She looks up to him as her hand reaches down for the lettuce on instinct, rewarding him with a radiating smile.

"Like I said, I'm only making it up to you," he replied, giving back a genuinely good-humored expression for once. She makes it so easy for him to let loose his old self even for a second. A side who didn't know what society's dreaded shadow looked like. "In the meantime, we should start working on their order so we can get rid of them as soon as possible."

"Right!" she said with an energetic nod, now completely revitalized and ready to get back to work.

Finding the specific meat needed, Amuro brought it over to the tap, letting it thaw for a bit while he prepared the coffee. Azusa, meanwhile, began slicing tomatoes on the station beside the sink, stealing glances at her colleague and the bacon with the corner of her eye from time to time. Being in this job for a long time now, her reflexes have already been trained to perform basic chores perfectly by itself while her attention's focused on another. It comes quite handy in the food business especially when orders become hectic and in avoiding wounds or amputated fingers. But since only one seat is occupied at the moment, she decided to indulge her curiosity towards her co-worker. "Say, Amuro-san?" she began once they were well underway with their respective chores.

"Yeah?" At the time, he was pouring blazing hot water into the espresso.

"Why did you choose to work here and be Mouri-san's apprentice?"

"Well... Working here makes it easy for me to keep up with Mouri-sensei. As busy as he is, it would be hard for me to take notes if I worked someplace else," he answered without hesitating or having to think about it for a stretched period. It was the plain truth, after all. Stripped of the minute details that give it a different meaning altogether. Even if they run a polygraph on him, it would still come out as the truth. He wouldn't have to lie perfectly. "But why do you ask?"

"I dunno... Its just that... I think with your level of intelligence, you can start your own detective agency and make a lot money taking cases Mouri-san rejects," she explains, taking the bacon out of the pack once defrosted and shearing into strips proportional to the bread that's been prepared beforehand. "You can even be a superstar like him too and appear on TV and commercials! I'm sure the producers would line up to have a handsome guy like you become the face of the detective business!"

"I've considered that, but Mouri-sensei showed me that I still have lots of things to learn when he corrected my deduction during my former client's suicide case." Amuro still has a lot of things to learn, alright. A lot of things to learn about the kid he's taking care of, and his possible connection to a pair of rodents - one already disposed of (or so he believes), another supposedly disposed of but he wouldn't buy it even if it costs only ¥1. As for Kogorou Mouri, he would have to show him a lot more to lure back his interest because, from the moment Amuro drew the line from Kamon Hatsune to Banba Raita and finally, to Kogorou and his family, all he can see is hype. After producing a glass of pineapple juice, Amuro readies both beverages on a tray. "I'll just deliver these to those fine gentlemen over there," he said as if he really meant the compliment.

No less than four minutes after Amuro took the engineers' order and the atmosphere didn't improve in the slightest bit. From the moment he emerged from the kitchen with their drinks, Amuro could just hear their scorn echo straight from their minds when he came out instead of his colleague. Not that things would be any different had the cast been complete; they've had to throw out a few of Azusa's unscrupulous suitors several times before, especially after she got featured in that magazine along with the café. These two haven't crossed the boundaries of decency yet, but Amuro's confident that it'll only be a matter of time before they do. Until then, he must continue playing the part of the friendly waiter. And every role must be treated punctiliously, for a single moment of carelessness is often times a good movie's undoing. He learned that from one who is considered the greatest actress of her generation.

"Here's your coffee." Arriving just in time to overhear the engineer's concerns over "getting found out", Amuro puts the coffee before him carefully to minimize the noise of impact. "And your pineapple juice." He does the same with the quantity surveyor's colder beverage. "The sandwiches will follow shortly, Until then, please enjoy your drinks." After another courteous bow, Amuro was about to withdraw when the man in the gray suit suddenly stopped him. They're about to step out of the line.

"Say, Azusa-chan's in, right? Would you mind calling her? I have this little present I wanted to give her personally," he inquired, his malicious intent seething from his voice.

"You look awfully tired, pal. Why don't you take a cigarette break or something? Let Azusa-chan humor us for a few minutes?" his wingman suggested, though he was obviously far from being concerned.

"Look, I'll give you half your daily salary up front if you do what we want. Let's not make this difficult, shall we?" gray suit demanded, seemingly growing impatient with Amuro's presence by the second. As if he could bribe his way for pocket change, or any amount for that matter. Azusa has been a good friend to him ever since he signed up for this job. He owed her at least her safety. That, of course, wouldn't hold up if circumstances call for it.

"I'm sorry, but like other establishments, we're not allowed to accept service tips," Amuro started with a mock-up grin. They crossed the line a little too early than he had predicted, but now that they did, there was no point curbing up. "As for Azusa-san, she is here alright, probably grilling the bacon for your sandwich right about now, but I'm afraid our café doesn't offer that kind of service. Perhaps you should try your luck at Ginza-cho instead. Some hostess clubs there tend to open a couple of hours ahead of what's posted on the door, granted that your wad is thick enough." Tooru Amuro's curtain is drawn, and the dangerous man it belies takes center stage. Its been a while since his last real performance at the Bell Tree Express, so he's quite excited to get his feet wet again.

"What the-" The quality surveyor staggers off his seat, furious. "How dare you talk to me like that?!"

"Where the hell is your manager?! We'll make sure you pay for this!" threatened the engineer in the brown suit after spitting what little coffee he had managed to drink in surprise.

"As you can see, my boss isn't here, but he did give me a go signal to chase out customers who would openly disrespect not only this café, but its personnel as well, even if they have money." the waiter answered on a politely demeaning note. "Oh, we also refuse to serve customers whose money is obviously obtained through illicit means."

"Are you implying something?!" said gray suit, closing in on him as if sizing him up, but all it did was allow Amuro a better look at his guilty countenance.

"Well, its no secret that you two are loaded. I bet you saved up hundreds of thousands by buying sub-standard materials from an inside source which," Amuro pulls out his phone and runs gray suit's name, which he had seen several times through his ID and some receipts, through a web search and, in a matter of seconds, was certain that his brother-in-law runs an unheard of cement and tiles business. Just as the detective thought. "Is related to your in-laws. I'm guessing that's the family discount." Its amazing, how many puzzle pieces one can pick up just by waiting tables. How many secrets can be divulged if one is so diligent to collect every sentence being thrown about carelessly in a cozy retreat like a café and put them all together.

"N-nonsense! Nobody would believe a minimum-wage failure like you!" he kept denying.

"Maybe so..." Amuro snickers, mocking this ceaseless effort. "But I believe the police would be all too happy to look into it anyway, especially with the coverage its receiving from the media and the public at large. And with enough persuasion, I'm sure the construction worker who got injured would attest to that even if you paid for his medical bill so he'd shut up."

The cost engineer was left speechless after that. He tried to keep an intimidating front, but his eyes wavered, unable to hold it steady, much less look Amuro straight in the eye. Burning in the hot water he himself boiled, he was sweating underneath his cheap sheep wool and his throat, croaking nervously as he wondered how in the world did a lowly waiter find out about the money he embezzled. His companion did even worse, perspiring just as badly but opting to remain silent in his seat as if screaming their confession. Even the air-conditioning wouldn't help their bodies hide these little signs of culpability.

"That's not even taking into account the fact that we're only a flight of stairs away from the agency of one Kogorou Mouri who, by the way, happens to be my mentor in the field of detection," added the man called Bourbon, showing no reservation nor leniency at all towards pests who spread viruses wherever they land.

After a while, the man in the gray suit scowled at Amuro and said they were leaving, his colleague following like a tail tucked between the former's legs. The decorous waiter that he is, Amuro went as far as seeing them out the door and repeating the same formality he gave the customer that came before them, all while ignoring their empty threats and curses. If they're smart, they'd start packing now. As overt as their scam is, it'll only be a matter of time before the firm they're working for and the police corner them, unless they're just as dumb to let such easy targets get away. "There goes half my daily wage," he joked, as if he actually cared about his salary at Poirot, or the embezzled money, or the injured worker. For him, that altercation was nothing more than a simple, run-of-the mill warm-up. It was fun to see their despaired faces for a few seconds, but no way does it compare to the fun he was having before they arrived.

Funny thing is though, the person they demanded to see appeared moments after they absconded the premises, holding the sandwich platter. "Amuro-san, their order's- Oh, they already left," Azusa said, looking somewhat disappointed.

"They were being mean, insisting to see you and all," Amuro explained with a shrug. "Told them we're not a hostess club and they got pretty pissed off."

"I see. But what are we going to do with these?"

"I'll just take them to Mouri-sensei later along with the untouched juice. But we'll have to flush the coffee down the drain."

"Did somebody just offer me free food?" suddenly honks in the so-called Great Detective himself, Kogorou Mouri as he bounded down the stairwell, his hands tucked in his side pockets. Coincidentally, he was also wearing a gray suit, only a darker shade. Not a cloud of uncertainty loomed over Amuro when the image of a heavily-drunk Kogorou acting the same way as the customers he just scared away dawned on him.

"Uhh, not so loud, Mouri-sensei. People might think you're using your celebrity status as a meal ticket," Amuro warned.

"Oh..." Kogorou coughs, remembering where he had slipped his tact in. "To be honest, I was just coming down for late lunch. A man as busy as I am has to find time to eat at some point. Is the Master in?"

"Yeah. Busy drooling over your desk," thought Bourbon. There hasn't been any incoming requests today, both on the hotline and the webpage Amuro still manages. "He left about an hour ago to visit his nephew at Beika General. But you arrived just in time. We've got BLT sandwich and pineapple juice fresh out the kitchen if you're okay with it."

"Bet some of Azusa-chan's admirers ordered that, huh?" Kogoro said following a wry snort.

"Pretty much the gist of it." _As if you didn't catch a glimpse of the last scene on your way, you phony. _"Anyway, you should probably step inside before the food gets too cold."

For once, Kogorou actually remembered to get the morning paper from the mailbox, something his daughter, his charge, or the staff at Poirot would usually do for him. Amuro welcomes in a trio of girls in school uniforms while waiting for him. They were pretty vocal about how lucky they are to have stumbled upon a hot waiter on the day they decided to cut classes. When Kogorou finally came over, he would open the door for his "teacher" and walk him to a comfy couch seat before letting Azusa serve the dish that was meant for the embezzlers. He didn't feel like drinking juice, so the café staff offered him a fresh black coffee instead, on the house.

"What did those punks do this time? Copped a feel at Azusa-chan's hips?" the mustachioed detective asked flatly as he flopped down the couch, making the waitress blush a little.

"Those punks are actually company men well over forty. They insisted to see Azusa-san too much and went over the edge," Amuro said in behalf of his co-worker, who immediately went over to take the school girls' orders, much to their disappointment. He hated dealing with fans just as much as Azusa hated dealing with hers, even if she didn't admit it. "If you got here a couple of minutes earlier, you probably would've heard everything they said."

"Keh! Old perverts! Refusing to accept that Father Time already has their number!"

"Takes one to know one, I guess..."

"You sayin' something?" Kogorou eyes Amuro skeptically as he helps himself with the sandwich.

"Uhh, no. Not at all," he said with a friendly grin. "That aside, I also happened to hear them conspiring about embezzling money from their company through purchase of sub-standard materials for a cheaper price and keeping the rest of the budget for themselves."

"Oh yeah? What firm are they working for?"

"XX Construction, as far as I could recall."

"The one working on that apartment building downtown?" Coincidentally, it was also on today's paper, at the bottom of the headline.

"Right. I suspect that it is somehow connected to the contractor's hospitalization."

"Everybody has their two cents on it, the governor, some lower house schmucks... I even had to turn down an interview." Kogorou gnaws at the bread with distaste all over his face, not with the food but with the money and the politics stirring the scandal. "If they really used cheap materials for that," he was speaking with his mouth full, "the inspectors shoulda noticed it already when they checked the site out." Barely chewing every bite, he finishes his first helping. "Hey, this sandwich is damn good! Did Azusa-chan prepare this?"

"As expected from you, Mouri-sensei. You figured out who made it with just one bite," Amuro humored him. He didn't have any interest with those matters either, nor with upholding the law, but since he had brought it up already, casually at that like most detectives do when comparing notes, he was suddenly curious to see how far would this issue progress if he wound up the key inside Kogorou Mouri's head. And he kind of want to get back at the engineers too, just for being such lousy customers. "But if we're talking about six, seven digits of revenue here, they're likely to pay the inspectors to shut up, right?"

"No doubt about it..." The famed detective takes a sip from his coffee. As the heat courses through his throat, he realized what Amuro was trying to do. "Hey, are you suggesting I stick my nose around this case?"

The waiter arches up a skin-deep smile, as if muttering a sarcastic praise. At least he's not so slow on the uptake. "I just think a timely case like this would help cement your legacy further, no pun intended. Nobody wants to live in an eggshell anymore with all the earthquakes we're experiencing recently, hence the media coverage this particular incident's receiving." By the time he mentioned something about legacy, he could hear the motor inside Kogorou's head clicking to life. Only a few more rotations to go. "Even if you're not officially hired by the firm, just imagine all the attention and honor you'll get just by playing a small part in exposing this scam. An exclusive interview with Nichiuri TV would be the least of it. Of course, considering your affiliation with the station, they'd probably get Yoko Okino-san to do it, if she didn't volunteer first." Letting go of the fanciful gold key, Amuro mentally counts to three and waits for the gears to start running on their own.

He counted a second longer than he had to.

"Fine, fine! I'll wire Inspector Megure, see if I can get him to forward it to someone in Division 2!" Though his voice may have been gruff when he agreed, Kogorou's face was plastered with a smug, ear-to-ear grin that caught even the girls on the other table's attention, though not in the way he would've hoped for. Pitiful as usual, Bourbon concluded. His ego will be the death of him.

While the renowned detective's busy jubilating over a glory he hasn't even attained yet, Azusa moves over toward her colleague, having received all the students' orders. "What is it this time?" Amuro asked in a low voice.

"An order each of Tofu salad, Carbonara and Poirot Special Spaghetti, two glasses of orange juice and a strawberry shake," she enumerated in the same way while handing him the sheet.

"How long did you say it'll take?"

"Fifteen to twenty minutes."

"Hmmm... We could finish everything on time if we started cooking now," Amuro estimated before turning to his "mentor". "We'll just take care of this, Mouri-sensei. If there's anything else you'd like, please don't hesitate to say so."

"Oh, okay. I guess I should make that call now before I forget about it again. What's the name of that thieving pervert again?" After Amuro whispered the surveyor's name to his ear as well as the name of his in-law, Kogorou pulls out his cellphone from his coat's breast pocket and dials the direct line to Inspector Megure. He could've just called Division 2 directly, but experience gave him this premonition that, God forbid, Homicide will have a hand at this scandal somewhere down the line.

Meanwhile, the Poirot staff drifted to the kitchen, one delighted to see more patrons filling the once-empty tables, the other waiting to see if his new toy would live up to its promise, both of them intent on doing their job in earnest. The real afternoon shift's just to begin.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Mouri Detective Agency:

Conan Edogawa had just arrived home after getting dragged into an absent classmate's home by the Shounen Tantei-dan under the notion of an "investigation". There was really no harm in obliging the children, but these days, he'd rather get home as soon as he can. Anybody'd sympathize if they live in a building knowing that there's a member of a group of murderers around the neighborhood, particularly downstairs, being overly-friendly with their loved ones. He was confident that he could take down Bourbon anytime, should he try something on Kogorou, or most especially, Ran while he's not around, but he didn't want to be too confident and take any chances against someone formidable and unpredictable at the same time.

Seeing the desk devoid of the detective that usually works, or drinks, or watches TV on it, Conan checks it for any clues as to where Kogorou could be. "We're falling a bit short on household expenses this month so I doubt Ochan would go to the pachinko parlor at this time of the day unless he doesn't want to hear the end of it from Ran," he surmised, finding no new notes or documents lying about. To make the chase a lot less tiresome, he decided to just call Kogorou's cellphone, but for some reason, it was having trouble connecting. "Strange. Reception's usually pretty good here." Conan paced around the office for better coverage but when he stopped in front of the home phone, he was suddenly struck by this perplexing sensation he usually feels when he senses something odd around him. He scanned the room for what could have triggered it, until his attention was drawn to phone itself. He examined the unit and immediately noticed that the receiver had deliberately been tampered with, the seam on the side widened by a millimeter. He scurries for a screwdriver to take it apart.

"A bug," he told himself, locating the tiny device and plucking it out with his fingers. "Its been placed carefully, but it was put back together sloppily. Even Ochan would notice it if he gripped the receive tightly. I'd get it if an amateur somehow managed to sneak in here and installed this, but the one person I know who has the best opportunity to do it isn't an amateur... Unless he actually wanted this to be found." At the ominous thought, Conan dropped the bug on the floor and crushed it with his powered sneaker. "I better go check at Poirot."

* * *

Chapter End.

Additional notes: This was supposed to be another one-shot, but I decided to cut the whole story into chapters so it wouldn't seem too long. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you in the next chapter!


	2. Busy Day, Busy People

Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan, nor any other copyrights mentioned in this work.

Notes: Thank you so much for those who read and reviewed the first chapter! As always, I've done some editing on it after reading some reviews so I hope it looks better now. I'm so sorry if this chapter took a while - I wanted to take my time on it, make sure everything is presentable enough and check if the details are close to being accurate. Let's just say I'm also my beta.

By the time this chapter was written, I'd just read chapter 888 which, wait for it, begins another Bourbon case that promises to give more details about him and the extent of what he really knows. The rest of the story hasn't been released or translated yet so, as tempted as I was to do so, I couldn't include it here.

* * *

"This really sucks...," Amuro mutters while boiling some pasta.

"Are you tired, Amuro-san? Maybe you should take a break now. I can take care of these on my own."

"No, I'm perfectly fine." He wasn't about to tell Azusa that he was really grieving about having to lower himself beneath a fraud like Kogorou. Who wouldn't grieve if they're forced to level themselves with the likes of Shizuoka Prefecture's Yokomizo and, from the tragic tales he's heard, Gunma Prefecture's Yamamura? The police sure have become less and less competent in recent years, granting such imbeciles authority in their respective jurisdictions. "Its just that... I'm bothered by the way those girls look at me. Its like I'm the one they want to order for take out..."

Azusa giggles while stirring the creamy vat on the saucepan. "You can't blame them. I mean, you are very handsome. Girls will have their eye on you wherever you go." And quite frankly, hers too.

"I've been told the same thing by an old friend but... I don't know... I guess I'm never gonna get used to the limelight."

"We-ll, it kinda adds a lot of pressure when you know people are watching you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Like they're expecting you to do well all the time or make a laughable mistake."

Allowing the sauce to simmer for a bit, Azusa bustles to whisk some eggs on a bowl. "I wonder where Mouri-san gets his confidence. He's almost always so ready whenever reporters and cameras flock around him."

_His head's just full of hot, stinking air, that's all._ "That's not entirely true. Remember a couple of months ago, when that bank robber Reiji Himuro tried to trick him into making false accusations in broad daylight, in front of a swarming mall crowd?"

"Oh yes! The café was packed with reporters waiting for his side of the story that time, but he wouldn't come out at all and we ended up having to ask them to leave if they weren't going to order anything."

"Well, he knew the media would only make him look worse no matter what he said. I even had to shut down his homepage temporarily because of all the hate mail and comments being posted there."

Azusa sighs as she scuppers into a frown. "I'll never understand how people could be so mean after just one mistake."

"Perhaps its part of the concept of Chauvinism. Its flip-side, to be exact."

"Chau-wha?"

"Chauvinism. It means blind patriotism, or simply idol worship," Amuro expounds, moving over to the cluster of condiments beside Azusa to get some ingredients for the salad dressing. "When people follow their so-called idols, they fail to be objective about them and focus only on the qualities that won them over, ignoring the flaws they may have as human beings no matter how bad it is. But once that particular quality's tarnished by a horrible performance, or by those flaws that should have nothing to do with it, people start to think less and less of them, until the god-like image is completely erased and all that's left to look at is a boring guy who isn't all that different, maybe even inferior to them."

Azusa pulls her index finger up to her cheek, turning Amuro's definition over. "So its like when you get turned off with your crush because you found out they got their eyes or their nose done?"

"More or less, yes."

"But if you put it that way, doesn't it sound... I dunno... Insincere? Like they're not really his supporters."

Amuro's expression suddenly darkened, seemingly detached from his body as it whips up the dressing in a very coordinated way on instinct alone, wandering about in an ominous territory. "...This world is full of insincere people."

Azusa instantly noticed the air between her and Amuro becoming heavier, too heavy than she had ever felt before with him. He didn't need to say anymore for her to understand where he's coming from when he said that, finding out a lot of cruel things about people as a private eye, but she was so used to Detective Mouri's, or even Conan-kun's optimistic approach with the same kind of cases that all she could do, on short notice, was to try to pull the conversation back on a positive note. "G-good thing Mouri-san was able to prove his deduction was right all along!" She promised to herself she'd try harder next time.

"Yeah," Amuro said, smiling apologetically for making things awkward. "We were all tuning in to the radio when the announcer suddenly changed the program and said they were going to broadcast Mouri-sensei's redemption. I swear, I felt like I was working at a sports bar when everybody started cheering the moment they confirmed Himuro's arrest." He was lucky Himuro was such an amateur, getting the idea right but failing to execute cleanly, thought Bourbon. "Anyway, do we still have some tofu ready? I'm worried we'd fall short since this salad's very popular recently."

As promised, the Poirot staff brought in high school girls' dishes within the next fifteen minutes, eleven to be more specific. Amuro had no choice but to help Azusa bring them over, especially when she said she was still feeling a little too wobbly to do it on her own, in a pleading face no less. He never thought she could be so sneaky too – it made him like her even more. Ending up as the object of questions like "can I have your number?" and "do you have a page?" as well as giggles and remarks falling along under the lines of him having good looks, he couldn't wait for another customer to come in or for Kogorou to ask for a refill on his coffee the first couple of seconds. Anything at all to bail him out of this situation. But as his eyes pass a glance at Azusa, her lips curved up sheepishly yet encouragingly from across the table, he opted to see things her way, refusing their advances in a polite and indirect way but never without a smile.

"They're pretty much all over you," Azusa whispered to him teasingly as they left the table.

Amuro peeks over his shoulder for a second before answering back. "And they pretty much want to tug your hair for being so close to me."

"What? We're co-workers. It's normal for us to be close." She pulls the empty tray she was clasping up to her cheeks. "I still owe you for earlier you know, and the incidents before that too. I wouldn't mind getting into a catfight with them if they start bugging you too much."

He covers his mouth to hide a chuckle. "I'll be cheering for you then." Azusa joined him in suppressed laughter until a minute later, when she felt her phone wriggle from her pocket.

"It's my brother," she says while opening the message she just received. "I'll just reply to him, okay?"

The two parted ways before reaching the kitchen, with Azusa proceeding to respond to her brother and Amuro staying behind the register, guarded only by a surveillance camera and, though he seriously doubts it, Kogorou's watchful eye. His senses may have been sharpened after his years in the force, but it is mediocre at best. In fact, observing him from behind the counter, the same way he does for months now, all Amuro could see is a regular, forgettable middle-aged man with an overblown ego and an idiotic sense of justice. Nobody would think he's a celebrity if they came in here totally in the dark of his exploits and his office upstairs. He may have been a great policeman during his time, but now, he's just an empty shell who couldn't even find a vital clue on his own. Sleeping Kogorou? What a joke. It's impossible for anyone to shed light to devices that are far beyond a normal person's imagination or make specific phonecalls to crime labs and whatnot, emphasis on the word "specific", and fail to remember anything about it a minute later. The brain's inner workings may be complex enough for such phenomenon to occur sporadically, but nine times out of ten is far from being sporadic.

Before presenting himself to be his apprentice, Amuro had interviewed some of Detective Mouri's past clients, particularly those that offered their homes to him and his family for several days, and they all said that, when asked about his toughest pursuits, most of the time he'd mention the one about his old friend from college whose corpse somehow maintained an upright position when she was murdered, but would hardly say a thing about the rest other than the "fact" that he was too clairvoyant to not have seen through the tricks employed and the motives behind it and that everything was too easy to bother remembering. Most people may find this "humanly acceptable", but if one would only be discriminating enough to look at it the other way, they'd find it strange too. Unless Kogorou has selective memory, or worse, Dissociative Identity Disorder which doesn't seem to be the case (at least until further symptoms arise), the only logical explanation to this is that he isn't the one doing most of the dirty work, like some celebrities with their "autobiographies", and the ones he "remembers" are the only ones he actually solved. He's definitely having someone else dissect those mysteries for him, someone who definitely has more knowledge in his pinky than Kogorou has in his head, and will guide him step-by-step en route to the right answers. And of course, Amuro already has a very good idea who that "someone" is. It's not too difficult to arrive to that sort of conclusion either, though he would have to look more into the method employed to be sure.

But what irks Amuro more than having to follow a pathetic charlatan like Detective Mouri is that almost an entire nation is crazy enough to fall for an obvious blunder like his. If the public could be so credulous as to cling to their make-believe heroes and the legends the media creates for them, no wonder society's falling apart as rapidly as it does now. The worst part is, he can't do a thing about it, if he doesn't want to lose Vermouth's favor.

"Would you care for a refill, Mouri-sensei?" he asks upon arriving by Kogorou's table, a pitcher of fresh coffee in hand.

"Uhh... I don't wanna run my tab too long or Ran'll let me hear it," the esteemed detective said politely.

"Don't worry about it. Master always reminds us to take good care of you, so refill's on the house."

"W-well, if you insist then."

If there's any consolation though, at least this job's a lot better than others, like being some spoiled princess's tennis instructor for instance, and it does entertain him from time to time, though Kogorou's hardly the source of that - something that can easily be remedied anyway. "So... Any new requests?"

Kogorou groans with disgust. "Just some people who want me to look for their missing pets! Do they seriously think the great Kogorou Mouri has time for that?!"

_Heh. No wonder you're falling short on expenses. People who go through the trouble of hiring pros just to look for missing pets are often the ones who pay well. An easy enough job if you're versed with animal habits. At least you know you're not the right guy for that. _"Well, I wouldn't mind looking into them in your behalf. I haven't had any requests in a while, so I could really use some practice."

"Don't bother! If their pets really love them, they'll come back on their own!" Kogorou wrinkles a wide, suggestive grin, as if stumbling upon some dirt. "And besides, you wouldn't wanna leave Azusa-chan by herself here, now would you?"

"I guess you have a point. She's been overworking too much these days," the waiter said. "Let me know if you want another cup."

Looking at his mentor as he walks back to the counter, Amuro wondered how badly would this "Great Detective" croak if he set him up to investigate a high-profile murder, something that his beloved media would give a play-by-play coverage, all while denying Conan Edogawa of any ways to aid him. He could perhaps arrange something for the three children Conan's always with, or maybe their parents just to keep him busy long enough for the show to unravel. Nobody told him anything about them irritating brats anyway, and they could really use a life lesson or two so they'd finally understand that snooping around somebody else's yard is "not cool at all".

Business at Poirot became busier over the next twenty minutes, and with Azusa handling all the kitchen duties, Amuro had to wait them all. Moments after refilling Kogorou's coffee, a twenty-something guy in a brown leatherette jacket came in, lugging a laptop bag. He said he'll have an iced latte and asked for the wi-fi's password. Shortly after him was a couple still dressed in their office uniform, most likely ducking out of work to meet. The male ordered a yakisoba while the female, a tofu salad. A seedy-looking man with a stubble, a worn suit coat and a newspaper similar to the one Kogorou's reading enters as the high school girls approach the counter, chipping in to settle their bill. Amuro was again nagged by their needless giggling, especially when one of them handed him the money, but he held his ground better this time since they were about to leave anyway. The third part-timer, Maki finally timed in while the blonde waiter's taking the seedy man's order - a triple espresso and a chocolate-chip muffin, exactly, followed by a woman wearing a thick, dark pair of lenses, a stylish hat and a tobacco-brown peacoat with its collar pulled up who, to Amuro's slight surprise, joined the man and added a complimentary glass of water on his list. She had this exalted air about her, as well as a notable mole below her left ear, which only came to view when she looked around and her fancy silver earring dangled. "For her to be this conscious, she's probably be a prominent person if not connected to one... An actress or a politician's concubine or even both. And if I'm to take that as the truth, then this man here must be a journalist or a paparazzo who's blackmailing her," the waiter guessed in his mind; it wasn't the first time he's served a blackmailer and his prey at Poirot. Lastly, a family consisting of a middle-aged man, a daughter and a son filled in the table vacated by the engineers not long ago. Amuro was going to approach them, but Maki, saying she has to earn her keep too, presents herself instead, leaving him available long enough to finally be able to tend to Kogorou again when he asked for another dose of caffeine.

"I think I'll have my break now," Amuro notifies, returning the pitcher to the counter immediately after replenishing the cup and, like the boss, hides his apron there.

"Okay! Thanks for the hard work, Amuro-san," Maki said with a nod before heading over to the kitchen to relay what the family ordered.

Pulling up the chair directly across his pretentious mentor, the man also known as Bourbon noticed something perplexing about Kogorou - he was fixated with a particular page in the paper. His reaction was subtle, far from his usual behavior when he claims to be committing something to his defective memory, but he's undoubtedly concentrating, and is probably at it for a while now that he had forgotten his sandwich since having the first one and the only thing reminding him that time is passing outside his bubble is his coffee.

"Found anything interesting, Mouri-sensei?" Amuro asked with enthusiasm, leaning towards the newspaper.

Kogorou almost yelped in surprise. "Uhhh... Y-you see, I-I was looking into the article about the construction site incident so-" he staggers to return to his normal self, "T-t-that's right! I was definitely reviewing it for when the reporters interview me about it! Not that this Great Detective needs to review something this simple!" And from that arises Kogorou's self-satisfied laughter.

_Seriously, nobody finds it amusing when you do that._ "...I hate to burst your bubble, Mouri-sensei, but... That's on the first page. You're already on the fourth."

"I am?" He rolls his eyes down the newspaper and confirms that Amuro was right. "Oh! I've been glancing over the other pages since finishing the headlines. Helps me memorize things better."

_Coming up with silly excuses like a child, eh... Fine, I'll play along._ "Oh yeah? Now then, let's see if you had it all nailed down. As your apprentice, its my job to make sure my teacher looks great in the public eye." Amuro pries the newspaper off Kogorou's hands quickly while he was caught off guard and scans it. "Wait a minute... This is the write-up about the case you somehow got involved in last night, isn't it?"

Kogorou scrambles for another excuse befitting his sham of an image. "W-well, I was wondering why it didn't make front page, so I tried reading it to see if the reporter made any mistake or downplayed it." The reluctance in his voice made it obvious that he was hiding something.

_"Must be how he reads every single feature about him out of sheer narcissism_," guessed Amuro while pretending to read the article; he could care less if the journalist made Kogorou's deduction look bad since it probably wasn't his to be proud with anyway. "I don't think he's written anything that would make you, or your brilliant deduction look bad."

"Y-you think so?"

"Yes. It'd be a disgrace for them to make any changes for the sake of sensationalism."

All Kogorou could do was nod with a stupefied face. "I... Guess you're right about that... He he..."

However, after a mocking groan, Amuro was suddenly confounded by an unsettling sensation. Something didn't feel right with the way he talked that particular conversation out. He looked at Kogorou again, this time gravely, and realized what he had missed. Clearly, he is implying that he wasn't following what his so-called student was getting at and is merely going along with it to end this sudden intrigue. Did I just misinterpret him? How could I, or anyone else for that matter, misinterpret a simple-minded man like him whose daily habits consist of nothing but vices? Was there something I missed? And if there was, what could it possibly be? The man called Bourbon is bothered by an irrelevant question that should been easy enough to answer, and he'd keep asking himself these questions until a familiar, friendly yet equally alarming voice finally relieved him of curiosity's burden about a minute later.

"I wonder... Maybe you're looking at the article above it. Right, Oji-san?"

As if in panic, Amuro turns to where the voice originated and finds Conan Edogawa, donning a small-sized jersey of Tokyo Spirits's Hide, jeans and his favorite reds sneakers, grinning mischievously at Kogorou, whose cheeks have gone ablaze as if he had another six-pack of beer just now. But when the boy turned his gaze to him to acknowledge his presence, the blaring innocence was wiped away, and in its place, only a glint of defiance for reasons only the two of them understand.

Quickly, the blonde hovers to the article Conan referred to and finally realizes what Kogorou's earlier seriousness meant. Above his own write-up was one about Eri Kisaki's most recent victory in court, opposite the Madonna of the Prosecution, Kujou. Thumbnails of the two lawyers were printed along with a comprehensive account of the trial: a murder pinned on the wrong guy, unlawfully arrested and detained by MPD's finest based solely on motive. Evidence was mostly circumstantial and his alibi was eventually cleared after a follow-up investigation, pushing the prosecution's argument down south. The publishers, however, spotlighted the police's misjudgment and incompetence, hence the article's domination over a run-off-the-mill Sleeping Kogorou case.

"O-o-of course I was staring at it!" Kogorou furiously confessed, stealing the newspaper back from Amuro. "B-because I'm so pissed off that the write-up about this annoying woman is bigger than mine! To think her case was so elementary!"

"Don't worry, Oji-san, I'll let Ran-neechan know how you feel about this when she gets home. I'm sure she'll be glad," Conan says as he sits beside his uncle.

"Mind your own business, brat!"

While the two waged their everyday father-son-like skit, Amuro remained silent. All along, Kogorou Mouri was just staring at his wife's photo, probably pleased with her accomplishment or the irony that they shared a page, far more than he'd like to admit. How could he have missed something so straightforward? He must've deemed the theory too specious to even deserve any consideration. But even that wasn't a very acceptable justification. Surely, Rye's laughing at him right now, wherever that duplicitous man is, be it in Hell or in some uncharted corner of the world...

"Anyway, what took you so long?!" Kogorou deliberately pushes the matter about him reading Eri's article aside.

"My friends invited me to visit our classm-" Conan was about to explain, but halfway into it...

"Whatever! I don't really have time to hear about the stupid games you kids play!" He then shoves the sandwich platter in front of Conan, who looked back at him with half-lidded eyes. "C'mon! Hurry up and eat so we can go back soon! I don't wanna miss a minute of Yoko-chan's samurai drama pilot re-airing today!"

"Isn't this yours?"

"Yeah, so what? I'm broke, so I can't order anything other than coffee! I already ate one anyway."

"Oka-y." As he helps himself with the set that has changed hands for the third time, Conan notices Amuro from across the table, too immersed in whatever he was thinking to join in on their conversation like he usually does. He provokes the waiter's attention by bringing something up. "By the way, I was trying to call Mitsuhiko to ask if he still has a volume of my manga with him, but the phone's making this noisy sizzling sound and I couldn't understand a word he says. I think its broken already."

"Why didn'tcha just use your cellphone to call that freckled brat?"

"It was low on battery, and I don't want to break it or something by using it while charging."

"You got one of those expensive new phones that don't have buttons, right? Getting that stuff fixed would probably burn my pockets just the same. Come to think of it, Inspector Megure was pretty choppy too last time we talked over the landline. Fine, I'll get a new one when I go out later."

"Umm... Didn't you just say you're broke?"

"This is important! I can't run a detective agency if my hotline's broken, y'know!"

"And having proper meals isn't? Geez..."

"Stop complaining! You're already having MY sandwich!"

Amuro trembles in his seat, not because he's feeling cornered, but rather, in sheer anticipation. He knew the boy would eventually find the bug he replanted after the previous one was removed following the events on the Bell Tree Express; he purposely made it so easy to locate this time, just to see how long it will take Conan to find it. And now that he has, he is purposely letting the person he suspects of putting it know, in a very discreet, childish way that only the perpetrator would recognize. Its been a while since Bourbon felt his competitive juices burn, and even if this sensation isn't as intense as what he feels towards Rye, it is definitely something he couldn't just ignore, not without redeeming himself from his folly.

"Are you okay, Amuro-san? You hadn't said a word since I arrived," Conan asks innocently, halting midway into a bite as he eyes the waiter.

"I'm just zoning out, is all...," the blonde ruefully responds, at last. "Its been a pretty backbreaking day today so far, with Master out and Maki-san just arriving... That reminds me, I should get back to work now." He bows casually as he pulls himself from his seat.

"Huh? But didn't you just say you're going on break?" Kogorou says, giving his pupil a puzzled look.

"Well, I realized how embarrassing it is to have two lovely ladies pick up after me while I slack off, so..."

"Very impressive! Like your mentor, you know how to treat women well! Looks like I'm running out of things to teach you day after day!"

"Treat women well my foot. Wait 'til Eri-san hears about that," Conan mumbles to himself as Kogorou gloats his way back into his bubble.

Amuro didn't hear what Conan just said with all the noises ringing about at once, but he decides to engage him anyway, just for the heck of it. "But before I go... Is there something you'd like to drink, Conan-kun?"

"N-no, I'm good, thanks," the boy refuses dispiritedly, trying to appear considerate.

But the Organization's agent could see it in a speck in this unusual boy's eyes, behind those thick lenses of his, the relief of learning that an evil person will be leaving, marred by the knowledge that the reprieve will only be temporary.

It was a good judgment call for Amuro to get back on duty so soon. Almost immediately after putting his apron back on, another regular customer comes in: the proprietor and head chef of Iroha Sushi next door, winding down from his own hectic establishment, takes a spot by the counter and asks Amuro where his boss was, and after receiving the same answer given to everyone who asked before him, he orders yakisoba and a glass of water. A brown-haired girl wearing a white, low-cut crop top and form-fitting jeans follows their neighbor less than a minute later, occupying the table across Kogorou's. She doesn't look like she's over eighteen, and has a face and body that can make one think that she's aspiring to enter showbiz if she hasn't already yet - a knockout that caught famous detective's leers the moment his radar detected her, which she doesn't notice as Maki takes her order. Kogorou couldn't gawk at her for long, a slew of police detectives arrived next and flanked him instantly on both sides, as if to make sure he behaves well. Some were familiar faces from a lifetime ago, while others, probably transferred to the city or into being plain clothes officers, but all of them surely seizing the opportunity of having a late lunch as a group while they still can. Most of them are semi-regular customers according to Azusa, who switched places with Maki so she could greet them and Conan as well, saying that the officers discovered this joint during an investigation held against her brother when they suspected him of killing his own boss, and have since been dining every now and then not only to compensate for their mistake or mingle with Detective Mouri, but also because they've grown fond to some of the café's dishes, mainly the spaghetti. Fortunately for Amuro, none of these detectives recognized who he was when he listed what they'll be having, much less hinted about it.

Amuro was about to head to the kitchen to pass the constables' rather lengthy order sheet - he wrote it this time for the waitress's benefit since the variety of beverages the officers will be having is much too baffling even for trained food service personnel though most of them just ordered spaghetti - when he saw Azusa talking so casually with Conan through the corner of his eye. It was obvious from the get-go that reason Conan didn't order anything when it was him asking is because didn't want to have anything to do with him unless its a life-or-death situation like when he and his friends got locked up that delivery truck. If he didn't intend snoop around the area for his own agendas that time, Amuro probably wouldn't have gone through the trouble of inserting himself in the commotion and simply allowed things to unfold. It's their fault for foolishly getting involved anyway, and its not like Conan couldn't have thought of other ways to pull them out of harm's reach - it'd be an utter disappointment if that had been the case. This time however, Amuro holds back on the probing, as it is quite unnatural to leave his other co-worker alone to prepare over a dozen meals to circulate around the café if Azusa's already on it. There isn't a need to bother anyway, since he's going learn about it the moment Azusa returns to the kitchen anyway.

"That's... For Conan-kun, isn't it?" Amuro guessed as Azusa prepares a glass full of ice and a can of soda.

"Yup!" she said.

"I wonder why he had to wait for you before asking, when I already offered to get him something a minute before?"

Azusa giggles. "Funny, I asked Conan-kun that too. Do you know what he said?" She motions the taller Amuro to lean closer so she could whisper, "he said you were making a very scary face earlier and he was frightened."

The blonde detective couldn't keep himself from laughing. "Me? Scary? Now that's a first..."

"I know, right? But that's what he said."

He really has no idea what kind of face he was making then, but if that form can only be achieved through a mistake, then it is indeed scary... To unconsciously reveal your weakness to your enemy. "Guess I'll have to deliver those and apologize." Azusa obliges her colleague and continues the chore he was doing before she returned, which is making sure that the portions of noodles are even for each plate before pouring in the sauce. She did find it weird for a boy like Conan not to ask Amuro for the soda when he was at their table, since that is the sensible thing to do. But she just assumed that Amuro somehow picked on Conan and accepted it, unaware that he's just about to do that now.

"Here's your cola." The waiter serves Conan the beverage, his lips curved up in a mock smile. "You know, I was really offended when you refused my earlier offer, only to find out that you asked Azusa-san instead."

"I haven't decided what I want that time, so there," the boy in specs explained meekly, apologetically like he too means it.

"Oh, really... Wait! I know. You have a crush on her don't you..."

"N-no... T-that's not the case..."

"If you say so..." _Maybe it is only fitting for you to be scared. After all, you know I'm not who I present myself to be. You wouldn't come down here and say something about the phone if you didn't. _If only Bourbon could eliminate this threat before it reaches its full potential, just the way "they" always do... Still, he has a ton of methods at his disposal, should this child choose to interfere with his goals rather than cooperate, and most of them actually seem more fun than plain old murder. "By the way, Ran-san's still at school, isn't she?" Amuro asks the girl-in-question's father.

"Uhh, yeah, she gets off at four, though she said she's goin' karaoke with her clubmates after training so she's probably gonna be late," Kogorou answered lackadaisically, his attention practically glued on the flashy girl across. And frankly, neither was Amuro's, his eyes passing through him and straight on Conan, who looked completely rattled by his sudden interest with Ran's whereabouts.

The best way to neutralize Conan Edogawa is, of course, to neutralize Angel instead. He obviously cares too much, way too much about that stupid girl. Emotions that far surpass the familial bond they keep persisting on the outside. He had seen it in Conan's face when he accidentally got hit by a tennis racket during their match, the fear of her being utterly defenseless against an evil man's advances... The despair of being incapacitated when she needed his protection the most... Oh how he wished he had seen the same priceless look, no, a much more intense version of it on Rye's face the day Akemi Miyano died. It would've undoubtedly made for a great laugh, to have seen a man like him grovel for a woman who couldn't even do what the Organization tells her to without the unnecessary reluctance that denied her of a codename. In Bourbon's mind, the real tragedy in there was that it wasn't him who put that bullet on Rye's heart, but perhaps a much more cunning and malicious remake of that plot will help mitigate the loss.

"But isn't it dangerous for a girl Ran-san's age, especially one as pretty as her, to be out at nights? Maybe I should go fetch her, see to it that she gets ho-," Amuro was going to suggest, but...

"NO!" Conan suddenly blurts out, but manages to get ahold of himself quickly. "N-no need to trouble yourself, Amuro-san! Ran-neechan can take care of herself! She's pretty strong!"

"What if the attacker's strong too?" Amuro continues to argue. "Like a member of the men's Karate team or the Rugby team?"

"She can beat them anyway! She once knocked a pro-wrestler out cold with a single hit!" Conan bragged with overbearing enthusiasm that's quite embarrassing even for a kid his age. No matter how good he is at sounding childish though, it is noticeable in his reaction that he's suppressing his nerves.

"Quit overreacting, you two!" Kogorou gets in between them, though his intention was probably to keep them from ruining the first impression he's trying to establish with the knockout. This time, Amuro's certain of it. "I didn't raise Ran the way I did so some guy could just hit on her. Besides, the arrogant punk I know who'd be fresh enough to try somethin' like that's probably lollygagging someplace else now."

Conan looks at his uncle sideways as though he knows who he's ranting about. But somehow, hearing that Kogorou's taking his side seems to have relieved him.

"Hmm... Sensei has a point. Anyway, if you'll excuse me," Amuro politely concedes before answering the call of the suspicious-looking man sitting with that woman with a mole below her ear, apparently to squeeze more from whatever dirt he's holding against her by adding two more dishes into his previous orders. The deciding vote had been cast, so there was no point appealing to it any more. But even if Kogorou agreed to have him see his daughter home, he still wouldn't dare to try anything. After all, it is Bourbon's Original Sin.

She may have told him not to hurt the kid and his foster family until necessity calls for such measure, but Vermouth was very particular about Angel being hers to take care of and that he should never lay a finger on the girl. Ever, if he valued their allegiance. Bourbon could see why Vermouth's so interested in Cool Guy, but Angel? It was among Vermouth's many mysteries, perhaps one of the more baffling ones. If there's one thing for certain however, its that it isn't just out of pity, even though it seems that way at first. To think that Vermouth's venom is starting to lose its potency through the years is to underestimate her the way Gin does: horribly. And he's leagues beyond that simpleton who was fortunate that an incompetent agent screwed up Rye's entrapment operation.

Vermouth may be full of secrets, but her seeing something in Angel isn't one of them, and if he wants to find out what that "something" is, he should stay as close to Vermouth and as far away from Angel as possible.

"It doesn't have to be Angel, really, though she'd provide the best results," Amuro thought as he makes his way back to the counter, naming all the other people who can be targeted in his mind one way or another, practically ignoring Conan's piercing stare trailing after him. "Seriously, this boy... No wonder trouble always finds him. He never stops asking for them to come." There's always Kogorou and his estranged wife, for starters. Both their stellar careers are a scandal away from collapsing on its own weight. Megure and his lackeys are easy pickings too, as many a fault as to the system they've devoted themselves to. Then there's Ran's irritating friend, the defenseless children or even their homeroom teacher perhaps... So many routes to wire the message through, so many holes around Conan for it to pass through, and he doesn't even have to be its courier too. Conan could probably protect one or two of them by himself, but what if they happen simultaneously? Sure, he can ask help from his associates from Osaka – Amuro heard about them from Azusa, who often sees a dark-skinned teenage boy and girl whose hair is often pulled up with a ribbon who speak Kansai-ben visit the agency, even dined at Poirot a couple of times, or maybe someone closer to home like this Professor Agasa he hears so much about, or that mysterious man driving the pink car the night Kei Kashitsuka "abducted" Conan - a fellow Bourbon wouldn't mind meeting again, but the odds will still be stacked against them. It only needs meticulous planning and proper persuasion for the plan to work flawlessly...

"Then again, something that elaborate's gonna be a pain to organize, not to mention boring," the waiter concluded with a sigh, sinking his chin on his palm. "If its gonna be like that, I'd probably be better off just going against her wishes and eliminate Angel out instead. I know some folks who'd be willing to try that sort of grand scheme though... But that's not my problem anymore."

From the first batch of customers that arrived after Kogorou, the office couple's the first to check out, hurrying out so they could get back to work in time and avoid getting scolded by their boss. The guy who arrived before them looks as if he can't be bothered from whatever it is he's doing on the computer and has barely touched his now-melted latte; he probably has a deadline to beat. After being absent for over an hour and a half, the boss finally returned from the hospital and immediately giving Amuro reprieve from the register duties after thanking his employees and giving regards to his work neighbors. Soon after returning to the normal circulation, Amuro was summoned by Kogorou for an update about the case he forwarded earlier about the infrastructure scam, courtesy of Inspector Megure.

"I talked to Inspector Megure just now," starts the famed detective. "Seems that Matsuda, the guy who got hurt in that incident, agreed to testify against those engineers and also other people involved in the scam through the wire just now and is asking for protection since he couldn't leave the city in his condition. The inspector was worried that something might happen too, so he sent Chiba to keep watch."

"I see. Then I guess its up to their hands now. Hopefully, we're just being too cautious about this," the waiter replied.

"Yeah," Kogorou seconded, sinking his chin on his conjoined hands, the one being overlapped still gripping his cellphone firmly as he waits for the sudden feeling of anxiousness to subside.

With nothing else to add or inquire about, Amuro returns to his duties, leaving Conan to speculate the reasons behind his sudden interest in the hot issue, confident that he'd get stuck somewhere down the line for the sheer lack of logic or motive.

Next to leave was the father and his two children, and as they head out, a foreigner in his late fifties wearing an orange polo shirt and casual jeans and carrying a handy travel bag in his shoulder, most likely a tourist, enters and takes the seat left by the office couple which Azusa had just bused. Her English wasn't perfect when she greeted the tourist, but she tried to make up for it by being extra friendly and courteous, even bowing with a picture-perfect posture when she told him to call her if he needs anything, like that of a servant at a traditional inn. Its becoming some sort of guilty pleasure for Amuro to watch his co-worker go about her job with such enthusiasm. Kind of makes him put more effort into his act too, a feeling he didn't find when he was working undercover at that other restaurant where he first came into contact with the Mouris.

"Pretty impressive, the way you handled that foreigner," Amuro compliments Azusa as she retreats over to him.

"I was really nervous, to be honest," she replied while making a cute sheepish face. "If its okay, can you take his order for me? I don't think I can talk to him any longer than that."

"Gotcha." Amuro tended to the table two minutes later as promised, greeting the guest in a natural-sounding English that surprised and humored him altogether. The foreigner then explained that he was having trouble deciding what to order since he couldn't read the menu's Japanese descriptions very well, so the waiter recommended to him the spaghetti and the club sandwich platter.

Coaxing someone to spend more, or in general instances, do what you ask them to isn't that hard if you know what you're doing and you're doing it right. Sales talk, cold reading, its all the same - a helpful skill not only in selling stuff, but also in detection, going undercover and conning people. In this case, all Amuro did was make the foreigner feel at home, assert the idea that the Japanese are not as discriminating to outsiders as history claims through his fluent-enough and endearing words, and it resulted with the foreigner ordering both dishes along with orange juice. It can be a simple as that, but mess up somewhere and you'll have to start over from scratch. Also, be mindful of the target's companions who will refute everything you say if they have one, like guides, friends, children wearing big eyeglasses that don't have grades...

"Your food will arrive in around ten minutes," Amuro tells the waiter with a smile, all while replicating Azusa's courteousness earlier. But on his way to the kitchen, he finds Azusa standing by one of the tables in the middle of the shop, trying to peek under it without bending over. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Ma'am's lipstick rolled underneath the table," she explains, referring to the flashy girl sitting across Kogorou; the lipstick must've been thrown out of her purse while she's getting something else. The waitress's skirt and the owner's low-cut top pretty much told why they're having a hard time retrieving it.

"Okay. Just give me a minute." Amuro volunteered before anyone else could, giving his colleague the note for her relay it in his behalf. But what Bourbon found when he crawled down the table separating the girl's and Kogorou's wasn't just the lipstick that has lost its momentum after hitting a chair's fore leg, but also a golden item he can use for his next attack against his little adversary. "Say, Azusa-san... Where exactly did you find that cellphone again? You know... Camo casing, antenna pulled up, weird numbers?" he asked Azusa when she returned to his side, discreetly but not so much that it can be missed by the sharp ears he intends to alarm.

"You mean _that_ cellphone? Actually, I found it over," she holds the last syllable as she tries to pinpoint the exact spot, "there! Under the couch Mouri-san's sitting on. Right side."

"There, huh..." Amuro slowly moves out of the table to peer over to where Azusa's pointing. What luck he's having today: he was planning to glance at Conan's direction, gauge his reaction upon hearing someone he doesn't trust asking about his dear uncle's casefiles, and now he can do it without looking too suspicious. Just as he expected, Conan's making a cute, grave face - probably trying to find a logical explanation to this inquiry. "To think that a single phone put Shuuhei Baishou and other heavy names behind bars if not in a pot of smoldering water ... If you didn't find it, they'd probably still be driving this country to ruins. at the comfort of their political seat." _It may be people like them, so drunk of wealth and power in their high chairs, who back__ people like us, but that doesn't make their kind any less pathetic..._

"It was Mouri-san who really solved the case," Azusa says humbly. "All I did was give him the phone and play an act with Conan-kun."

"Well, if you didn't tell him about the phone, he probably wouldn't know about the scandal, but," Amuro raises a brow, "play an act?"

"Haven't I told you about it already when you came over to my place?"

"I think that's where we got cut off when your brother chased me out." Contrary to what Conan may be thinking as he tries to listen to them, every bit of this is actually true; Amuro hasn't heard of the skinny behind Shuuhei Baishou's scandal until Azusa mentioned it, and has been curious about hearing the rest of it since they were interrupted by her brother's untimely visit.

"I know I said this to you many times after that, but again, I'm so sorry about my brother's rudeness!" Azusa says. "My brother's very paranoid when he sees me talking to guys he doesn't know."

"No, I should be the one saying sorry, really... For getting too comfortable after you went out of your way to invite me for lunch. Any brother would react like that if they found their pretty little sister with some guy on her bed."

"You really don't have to apologize... Its not like we were doing anything, right? W-we were just talking..." The brown-headed waitress's face reddens with embarrassment, both of her brother's behavior towards her guest and her imagination. "A-anyway, you wanna hear what happened next, right?"

"Yeah. I assume the act you were to talking about's for luring the culprit?"

"More of got dragged into it, to be honest. But you're right about it being some sort of bait. When we found Baishou-san's representative at Columbo, Conan-kun suddenly dragged me and started acting like we just found the phone there. Things happened so fast that all I could do was play along, though I admit, I was pretty scared when the representative approached us, especially since he was the same ma n who threatened me over the phone. Fortunately, the cops were with us along with Mouri-san, and the rest, you can probably imagine it."

"I sure can," said the blonde man with a wry smirk."Speaking of Columbo, I've been there with Mouri-sensei for a case too, though as it turned out, we were just lured away from the agency so the perpetrator could set up another trick. Talk about coincidence."

"That's when you found that dead crook and his hostage in Mouri-san's bathroom, right?"

"Well, to be accura-" Amuro was about to give Azusa a gist of Kei Kashitsuka's case, at least his version of it, when he was cut off by a loud slurping sound nearby.

"Geez, I'm out of cola!" Conan exclaims, trying to take in the remaining drops of cola that's already diluted by melted ice.

"Can't you just wait 'til we get home?" Kogorou suggested, sulking with his chin on his palm.

"But I'm really, really, really thirsty!" the bespectacled boy insists.

"Fine! Fine! Just shut up and hold still." Conceding to his charge's wish like it was his only choice, the mustached detective reaches for his own beverage on reflex, but when he lifts it up for a sip... "Hmm, I'm out of coffee too..." He probes around the café for his apprentice and calls him over, who promptly tends to them after passing the lipstick to his colleague as though he's expecting the summons.

Much like his previous approach, only Amuro's mouth is poised in dealing with Kogorou, ready to say practiced responses and praises to please his so-called mentor's ego. His eyes passed through the older man like he was translucent curtain that can barely do the task it was tailored for and is better torn off so this onlooker could watch the youngster's show without any obstructions. But since that is against the theater policy, he'll just have to bear with the minor annoyance. "Need anything else, Mouri-sensei?"

"Uhh... Could you get me some more coffee and a fresh can for this brat? Just put it on my tab for now."

"Understood." Watching Conan fiddle with the straw with a serious look about him, Amuro figured right away that he was putting up a performance again. His intention was obvious: to keep the bad man from exchanging information with sweet Azusa about Kogorou's cases. The disingenuous act proved to be effective though, at least to a dunce like Kogorou, who was unconsciously convinced to postpone their return to the agency. But that probably just saved the old man from even more frustration; even if he carried Conan by the collar and raced back to his office now, he would have missed his rerun by twelve minutes already. "Looks like I'll have to teach him the wonders of web streaming one of these days," Amuro mentally notes to himself, but for now, his focus lies on imposing his will on this brat who obviously thinks one or two small victories has earned him the leverage. "Anyway, can I ask you one little favor, Mouri-sensei?" He implores Kogorou to lean closer.

Even if his face looked disgruntled as usual, Kogorou leans anyway.

And with a fiendish grin, Amuro begins to whisper. "You see... I've made this blend of coffee that I plan to present to the boss soon, but I want you to try it for me first so I can make necessary adjustments." Feeling that it wasn't convincing enough, he adds, "its guaranteed to make you feel five years younger, so you can easily keep up with girls like her over there." He pointed at the girl whose lipstick he just picked up.

"Really?! Well, sign me up!" Kogorou emphatically agreed, his eyes seemingly beaming pink throbbing hearts as he trains them towards the babe. As tricky as he is to read when it comes to the woman he vowed to be faithful with, Kogorou is an open children's book with other attractive faces and bodies: so easy to second-guess.

"But Oji-san, its bad to drink too much coffee! I-I heard it on TV!" Conan rebukes desperately. Perhaps a little too desperate even for a child worrying about his parent's health, his temples beginning to moisten with sweat and his face, tangled with insurmountable horror. He heard every bit of what Amuro just said apparently, but that's only because Amuro wanted him to hear it.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop believing everything you hear on TV?!" the celebrity detective snaps. "Besides, he needs my critical opinion on his coffee before he can let his boss taste it! Not like a sip of it's gonna kill me!"

"B-but-"

Kogorou decisively slams his palm on the table before Conan could argue further. "No more buts! I'll drink what I want to drink, got it?!" he said, irate like he just ran out of patience with his charge.

Unable to think of anything else to say that could make Kogorou think twice about trying Amuro's experimental beverage, Conan could only mutter a silent curse.

"Well, I should start making it now while its not so busy," Amuro excuses politely, like it was the natural thing to do when serving a parent who suddenly scolds his child for being too petulant. The air between them have gone from comical to awkward that even the police detectives sitting beside them couldn't help but exchange murmurs, a couple of them even trying to mediate.

Bourbon savors the defeated look on Conan's face as he paces towards the kitchen for the special offering. It was a good morale boost for him, considering how wary he's become of the boy's talents in recent days. All the more reason for him to enjoy it. From behind, he heard someone's surprise, probably one of the detectives, when Conan sprang off the seat and excuse himself to the facilities. But the waiter knows better; he wanted Conan to follow so he could see for himself the treat what he's about to prepare.

Sensing that the little sleuth has made himself comfortable edging the wall leading to the kitchen's passage, Amuro goes about with the basics of making a coffee, from preparing the espresso, to adding the right amount of cream and pouring the hot water. He did it all so slowly and so precisely, like he was giving his observer the step by step though he was merely leaving himself open for interruption. Maki, who was left in charge of the kitchen, even praised him by saying they could film a tutorial video now and it will get a million hits in no time, which he would refuse humbly by replying that this is an experiment, not to mention a secret recipe he's not ready to share to the world yet. As a finishing touch, Amuro produces a small vial from his pocket, an ingredient he acquired not too long ago and has been saving up for the opportune time that has now arrived. Holding the vial in such a way that the contents would be hidden in his grasp, he poured some of it on the coffee before the final stir, thus completing the special blend meant for the Great Detective Kogorou Mouri.

However, as he was exiting the kitchen to finally serve it, Amuro noticed that Conan, Kogorou, and a couple of detectives, are no longer where he last saw, or sensed them. Maybe he had been a little too absorbed with his own devices that he forgot to keep track of what's going on around him, or maybe Conan somehow succeed dragging Kogorou home by reminding him of his long-forgotten TV show... He didn't want to make any guesses about this one so he just approached his boss to ask.

"Master, where did Mouri-sensei go?"

"The inspector called him a minute ago," Poirot's owner began. "I couldn't hear what they talked about, but apparently, some guy named Matsuda was found dead in his apartment... The detectives gave him and Conan-kun a lift." Suddenly, his expression becomes grim and his voice, discreet. A foreboding expression that practically said what he was about to say. "It seems this Matsuda, whoever he is... Was murdered."

"Matsuda? Murdered?" the blonde repeated while trying to weave together his hypothesis. Of course he already has an idea who the culprit, or culprits are, as well as the motive behind the poor man's murder. But to him, it was nothing but another unfortunate news about someone he doesn't even know, and as far as he was concerned, the death, the investigation, whatever tricks employed in this crime and everything else in between, were none of his business.

He didn't tell anyone to kill anybody, after all.

"What's that?" the owner turns his attention to the cup the waiter's holding.

"Oh. Its a special blend of coffee I was working on. Was planning to let Mouri-sensei taste it first, but I guess it can't be helped..."

"Then can you let me try it instead?" With no other alternatives left, he lets his employer sample it. "Hmmm... You put something different in it, didn't you."

"Powdered tongkat ali. Known also as pasak bumi in Indonesia where its usually grown. According to research, it is said that this herb helps increase a man's testosterone level, giving him a youthful vigor. I've seen all sorts of instant coffee with it, so I tried making something more natural. What do you think?"

"It tastes somewhat weird," the owner commented, returning the cup to Amuro so he could try it himself.

"You're right." He shrugs after sipping, making an "I'm not perfect" kind of face.

"I think its got something to do with the way you mixed it in though. Can you give me the ingredient? I'll see if I can refine the blend." The waiter-slash-detective-slash-assassin hands over the harmless vial, telling his boss the exact store where he bought it if ever he needs more.

Just then, a customer bursts through the door. Hearing his cue, Tooru Amuro puts the coffee down and goes back to his job with a pleasant smile. "Hello and welcome to Poirot!" And so another day at Poirot ensues.

* * *

Chapter End.

Additional notes: Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Still an aftermath to go.


	3. Closing Time, Please Come Again

Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan. I don't even own the computer I used to type this.

Notes: Since this is pretty much a wrap-up and I already had an idea how its supposed to go, I was able to finish this faster than the second part.

Its always a welcome sight for me to see heroes get bullied at their own game, especially those who seem to win all the time. Then again, Amuro is the (anti)hero in this story, so I guess that doesn't add up. Anyway, thank you so much reading this experiment of mine!

* * *

"Mahjong and beer, you say? Sure, I'm in soon as I finish up here," Iroha Sushi's owner and head chef tells Amuro while wiping some soy sauce residue off his counter. "By the way, is Mouri coming? I'd love to hear about that case he just wrapped up."

"Master's calling him over now, and from the looks of it, there's a good chance he'll be joining in," the waiter answered. "Anyway, I should get going now."

"Say hi to Azusa-chan for me, alright?"

"No sweat." Exiting Iroha's door, Amuro finally completed Poirot's last task for the day. A last-minute errand the boss asked of him on his way out, to be exact - instead of an apron, he already has on his coat when he dropped by, even getting mistaken for a last-minute customer. Unlike these diners though, Amuro's day is far from over. After hearing about the latest Sleeping Kogorou case on the evening news, Azusa felt like she had as much of responsibility in it as Amuro since she allowed her colleague to stand in for her, pushing him into the argument with the engineers that could have stimulated their instinct for murder. Reassuring her that she didn't do anything wrong at all, Amuro asked Azusa out to unwind and try to forget about the incident they somehow kindled by refusing a couple of unscrupulous customers business. It's Friday, so there's more than enough places around Tokyo that are open 'til daybreak, and its also their day-off tomorrow.

Waiting for his date outside their workplace, Amuro checks his phone for investigation requests delivered during the day. He really didn't have to bother with them now that he's in Detective Mouri's circle, but occasionally, a case great for reference and practice turns up. He received nothing of the sort today. There's also the report to Vermouth, but he decided to save that for another time. The fact that he doesn't have anything worth telling her aside, it isn't likely she'll get worked up not hearing from him for a day.

A fuel-operated car rips through the road, leaving a trail of odious smog that forces a couple of weak-lunged pedestrians to use their palms as instant masks on reflex. The effort proved ineffective; they coughed as they walk by Amuro. "As easy as this, a person can be defiled, twisted into thinking, doing, feeling things they normally wouldn't want to," he thought, stashing the phone back in the slit it was taken from. What happened with the engineers earlier was incidental. After all, he knew only the base facts and devised a theory that fit the infrastructure scam. There's probably more into it than he could scavenge through the web, motives only the victim and the culprits are aware of. For one, Matsuda might be blackmailing them ever since he got hurt and, when they finally refused his demands, decided to pay the police a visit. And when the engineers heard this waiter say something about the injured man testifying to their crimes, they felt a sense of urgency to shut him up for good.

Whatever those variables are, all Amuro's guilty of is lighting a fuse, as well as convincing Kogorou Mouri (who, like the engineers, had the chance to say no, but didn't) to go after them shortly after they left which practically squares the deal. And in a place where an individual could influence the lives of strangers for a few seconds, something like this can happen everyday. The potential frightens Amuro, yet part of him can't resist feeling exhilarated thinking about the filthy affairs he can tend to when he returns to duty the day after tomorrow.

Suddenly, amidst the noises of engines running, murmurs escalating and feet stomping, a voice bitterly beckons to the waiter. "You provoked those engineers, didn't you... Forced their hand into committing murder..."

Amuro easily identified the voice as Conan Edogawa's, finding him by the stairwell, looking straight at him with eyes full of abhorrence. Since there was nobody anywhere near the street who is likely going to take interest in what they're talking about, he drops the pretense as well. "I may have threatened them to some extent, yes... But for you to confront me about it now, I'm sure you've heard of my fairly acceptable reasons from Mouri-sensei as well."

"Acceptable?! Don't you even realize what you've done?!"

He gives the boy an ingenious look. "What did I do, exactly? Did I tell them to kill that man? As far as I'm concerned, I only defended the honor of my co-worker using my best talents. You can ask Azusa-san if you want. She heard and saw everything."

"Don't drag Azusa-san into this! Someone died because of you! And now you have the guts to use her to justify yourself?! Do you think she appreciates that kind of protection?!"

"Well, you can ask her yourself, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until tomorrow for that. Listening to Mouri-sensei's remarks during the interview though, I imagine they used a very complicated trick to go about with the killing. Something they couldn't possibly think of on such short notice, logically-speaking at least." Conan was taken aback, as if holding his retorts so he wouldn't accidentally vomit over what he was hearing. Assuming that this is a confirmation of his inference, Amuro continues. "Don't get me wrong. I do regret that it had to come to this... But what those engineers did was something I couldn't have manipulated or predicted. They killed him on their own discretion, and you know it. Mouri-sensei knows it. Inspector Megure knows it. Everyone at Poirot knows it." Knowing fully that he's in full control of this particular debate, the blonde capitalizes on it further by flashing a grateful smile. "You know what, I probably should thank Mouri-sensei for catching them before they tried something on me and Azusa-san..." _Except I can't, since he probably didn't do it on his own._

Conan shakes his head violently, dispelling his hesitation and Amuro's gratitude. "Stop messing around! All of this could have been avoided if you handled things differently, and _you_ know it!"

Listening to the boy's attempts at trying to elicit his conscience, the blonde bursts into an unfeeling snicker. "Seriously... Between us, its you who should stop messing around." Once all humor was out of his system, Bourbon takes center-stage again, asserting his vindictive will. "As detectives, sometimes we need the blood of others to erase our restrictions so we could finally expose the evil that spilled it. If you think about it, there was no guarantee that they'd be put to jail for embezzling company funds, and had the project continued without anyone finding out about the cheap materials, chiefly due to all the bribery involved, more people could have gotten hurt. Matsuda-san's death, if anything, prevented an even bigger catastrophe from happening. Even the great Sherlock Holmes would be able to accept this loss easily, as devoted as he is to satisfying his own interests than helping people and upholding justice."

His principles as a detective laughed at and his hero stepped on like it never stood for anything, all Conan could do is bite on his lower lip and ball both his hands into tiny fists. "...You have no right to say such things about Sherlock Holmes... Not... Not a murderer like you..." He wanted to hit Amuro so hard, but he didn't have the physical strength to make sure the message is sent loud and clear. Knowing how impossible it is even for Shinichi Kudou doubled his frustration.

"Fine. Blame me for this one if its gonna help you sleep peacefully later," Amuro says, shrugging. "But let me remind you that I also asked Mouri-sensei to look into this case _before_ the murder even happened. And that Banba Raita-san's still a free man because of me. Who knows what would've happened if the cake didn't slip from my hands that time?" Confident that the argument is decidedly in his favor, the waiter ends it by delivering a biting advice, on the house. "Don't talk as if you don't know anyone else who has provided a murderer an opportunity to kill someone before."

Just then, Azusa emerges from the café, now in her coat as well. While she's totally oblivious of what the two detectives are talking about, her timing couldn't have been more impeccable. "I'm so sorry, I still had to freshen up a little. Did I keep you waiting too long, Amuro-san?"

"Not at all," he replied while smiling genuinely at her. "Conan-kun's kept me company all the while."

Walking towards Amuro, Azusa peers over to the stairwell and finds the boy, petrified. "H-hello there, Conan-kun," she greets hesitantly, feeling the awkward vibe immediately. "W-why are you still up so late?" Conan didn't respond.

"He's probably waiting for Ran-san," Amuro answers in his behalf, saving him the trouble of having to pretend being okay. "Its pretty late already and she hasn't come back, it seems..." At the sudden allusion to Ran's absence, Conan mutters an inaudible curse.

"Is something wrong with him?" she asks her colleague-slash-date.

"I don't know..." He shrugs again, a little more jokingly this time. "Maybe he's just worried sick... Or maybe he thinks I spat on his cola earlier or something... You know how kids are... Hard to tell what they want sometimes."

"Don't tell me you're still picking on him up to now," Azusa said, looking at Amuro with narrowed eyes.

"Maybe a little... Couldn't resist after seeing him get so worked up a while ago," he confessed with a cheeky grin. At the corner of his eye, Amuro spots Ran Mouri fast approaching their home, her Karate gi and schoolbag on one hand, and something like a doggie bag on the other, probably containing food. "Looks like you're right about her being able to take care of herself. Guess there's really nothing to worry about," he tells Conan apologetically as he nears the flight. Leaning towards the child, he adds in whisper, "for now."

Refusing to extend his chatter with the vexed little detective or make an unnecessary one with the forbidden angel, Amuro hurriedly pulls away and rejoins Azusa. "Let's go. We still have to get my car," he says, imploring her to walk slightly ahead as a gentlemanly gesture.

"Sooo... Where are we going anyway?" Azusa gives him an expectant look.

"Hmm... How about Ginza-cho? I know a couple of great places that are open all night."

"Okay! But its gonna be your treat."

"Well, that's the plan."

Even a waiter from the so-called Black Organization needs to relax after a day's tiresome, yet equally rewarding work. As for Conan, Ran can pick up the scraps of his resolve and build it back for now. After all, Bourbon has to spare him, at least until he finally gets what he wants.

* * *

The End.

written by akaisherry47


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